here, to arrive in six weeks’ time. Then we shall hold a week’s worth of festivities, culminating on the feast of the winter solstice. I would very much like your help in planning everything—there is no one better suited. You are so clever with matters of court.”
“Your Majesty flatters me,” Will said with mock delight.
“I would be honored to take on such an exciting task.” His mind was already racing.
John had made no bones about his contempt for the nobles, so he had to harbor an ulterior motive. Hosting the lot of them for an entire week, with festivities and a feast? Whatever the prince was planning, it had to be big, and something terrible. The door opened and the steward entered.
He was accompanied by the Lady Marian.
“You wanted to see me,” she said perfunctorily when she had stopped beside Will. She did not look at him.
“Yes, my dear,” John replied. “In six weeks’ time we will be entertaining the nobility. As the ranking lady of the castle, you will be responsible for the duties of the hostess. Together, you and Will Scarlet must make sure that everything is perfect for our guests.” His tone turned mocking. “I trust that working closely together won’t pose too much of a problem?”
Marian flushed, but kept her voice steady.
“I’m certain everything will work out perfectly,” she said.
“Good,” John responded. “Steward, see that messengers are sent with these letters.” He picked up the pile from his desk.
The man moved forward to take them.
“Will, Marian,” John said, turning away from them, “I will summon you again to discuss the specifics.” With that he gave a wave of his hand, effectively dismissing them. Marian turned on her heel and stalked toward the door. Will bowed, then followed at a much slower pace.
Behind him, John spoke again to the steward.
“I want you to make certain that tomorrow night’s shipment, bound for Scotland, leaves precisely on schedule,” he said. “It is vitally important that the
valuables
on board that ship arrive safely at their destination. We can’t risk sending an envoy that large through Sherwood.”
Will’s heart skipped a beat as he wondered what John could be sending to Scotland. King Richard’s cousin, Henry, currently resided there. Might John be sending him a bribe of some sort? Perhaps to back John’s claim to the throne. His stomach lurched slightly at the thought.
Ahead of him Marian paused, and almost started to turn around, then seemed to think better of it and kept going. Will exited the room a couple of feet behind her, and he closed the door carefully. He listened for a moment and then shook his head. Either John and the steward had ceased talking, or they were speaking too softly to be heard.
He moved away from the door, signaling Marian to walk with him. They made their way down one of the hallways until they found an alcove where they were unlikely to be disturbed.
When they stopped walking Will looked at her.
“We need to stop that shipment,” they said in unison.
Marian frowned. “Alan is off and away. It will take more than the four of us to deal with a group of soldiers.”
Will smiled.
CHAPTER SIX
The cold ride sharpened Locksley, clearing his head. One thought kept rolling through his mind, turning and turning, taking on the rhythm of the hoofbeats beneath him.
Robin Longstride is the Hood.
He’d known about his men being sold off, used as bait in a trap for the Hood. As a child Robin had long shown an affinity for the bow, winning contest after contest, even against trained soldiers.
Robin was the Hood.
The bane of his existence as chief tax collector.
Son of his sworn enemy.
Son of the only woman I ever loved.
He arrived at the doors that led to the throne room. The king’s man—the one who’d come to summon him—stood to the left, frowning. As Locksley stepped closer the man reached for the door. Locksley held up his hand.
The man stopped, and his frown turned to
“Your Majesty flatters me,” Will said with mock delight.
“I would be honored to take on such an exciting task.” His mind was already racing.
John had made no bones about his contempt for the nobles, so he had to harbor an ulterior motive. Hosting the lot of them for an entire week, with festivities and a feast? Whatever the prince was planning, it had to be big, and something terrible. The door opened and the steward entered.
He was accompanied by the Lady Marian.
“You wanted to see me,” she said perfunctorily when she had stopped beside Will. She did not look at him.
“Yes, my dear,” John replied. “In six weeks’ time we will be entertaining the nobility. As the ranking lady of the castle, you will be responsible for the duties of the hostess. Together, you and Will Scarlet must make sure that everything is perfect for our guests.” His tone turned mocking. “I trust that working closely together won’t pose too much of a problem?”
Marian flushed, but kept her voice steady.
“I’m certain everything will work out perfectly,” she said.
“Good,” John responded. “Steward, see that messengers are sent with these letters.” He picked up the pile from his desk.
The man moved forward to take them.
“Will, Marian,” John said, turning away from them, “I will summon you again to discuss the specifics.” With that he gave a wave of his hand, effectively dismissing them. Marian turned on her heel and stalked toward the door. Will bowed, then followed at a much slower pace.
Behind him, John spoke again to the steward.
“I want you to make certain that tomorrow night’s shipment, bound for Scotland, leaves precisely on schedule,” he said. “It is vitally important that the
valuables
on board that ship arrive safely at their destination. We can’t risk sending an envoy that large through Sherwood.”
Will’s heart skipped a beat as he wondered what John could be sending to Scotland. King Richard’s cousin, Henry, currently resided there. Might John be sending him a bribe of some sort? Perhaps to back John’s claim to the throne. His stomach lurched slightly at the thought.
Ahead of him Marian paused, and almost started to turn around, then seemed to think better of it and kept going. Will exited the room a couple of feet behind her, and he closed the door carefully. He listened for a moment and then shook his head. Either John and the steward had ceased talking, or they were speaking too softly to be heard.
He moved away from the door, signaling Marian to walk with him. They made their way down one of the hallways until they found an alcove where they were unlikely to be disturbed.
When they stopped walking Will looked at her.
“We need to stop that shipment,” they said in unison.
Marian frowned. “Alan is off and away. It will take more than the four of us to deal with a group of soldiers.”
Will smiled.
CHAPTER SIX
The cold ride sharpened Locksley, clearing his head. One thought kept rolling through his mind, turning and turning, taking on the rhythm of the hoofbeats beneath him.
Robin Longstride is the Hood.
He’d known about his men being sold off, used as bait in a trap for the Hood. As a child Robin had long shown an affinity for the bow, winning contest after contest, even against trained soldiers.
Robin was the Hood.
The bane of his existence as chief tax collector.
Son of his sworn enemy.
Son of the only woman I ever loved.
He arrived at the doors that led to the throne room. The king’s man—the one who’d come to summon him—stood to the left, frowning. As Locksley stepped closer the man reached for the door. Locksley held up his hand.
The man stopped, and his frown turned to
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